Night descended over Xia Lu Town like a velvet curtain, bringing with it the promise of celebration and the hidden certainty of death.
The moon hung full and bright in a clear sky, casting silver light across the hillside where the Lu manor blazed with lanterns like a constellation brought to earth. Music drifted on the evening breeze—stringed instruments and flutes playing elegant melodies that spoke of wealth, culture, and refined taste. Laughter echoed from within the walls, the sounds of guests arriving and greeting each other with the practiced warmth of people who were rivals in business but allies in maintaining social order.
Outside the main gate, four figures approached with steady steps, their shadows stretching long behind them in the lantern light.
Bai led them, transformed entirely from the cold assassin of previous days into something that resembled minor nobility. His white hair was styled elegantly beneath a formal cap of dark silk embroidered with silver thread. His robes were deep blue—the same shade as the Lu family colors—with intricate patterns woven into the fabric that caught the light when he moved. His pale skin and golden eyes, which normally made him appear corpse-like, now seemed exotic and distinguished in the formal attire. He carried himself with absolute confidence, the bearing of someone accustomed to moving in circles of power.
Behind him walked Hu, similarly transformed but with deliberate differences. His robes were slightly less refined, the embroidery less complex, the fabric quality just fractionally inferior—the clothing of a successful merchant who was comfortable but not wealthy, prosperous but not powerful. His long black beard had been trimmed and oiled until it gleamed, and his eyes—though alert—carried the slight glassiness of someone who'd already begun evening drinking. He smiled broadly at nothing in particular, playing his role as the affable, harmless merchant who enjoyed celebration perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.
The masked driver maintained his usual mystery, but his robes were formal enough to suggest he belonged in this gathering. His wooden mask had been painted with more elaborate designs—still concealing his features, but now appearing to be a deliberate fashion choice rather than something to hide behind. The bamboo hat was gone, replaced with nothing, letting people see the mask fully. His posture suggested deference, a servant or bodyguard accompanying his betters.
And Zhung walked at the rear, dressed in robes that marked him as a junior associate—fine enough to belong but plain enough to be forgettable. His long brown hair was tied back with a simple cord. His dark, empty eyes scanned everything with quiet intensity, absorbing details while showing nothing of his thoughts. He'd left his distinctive wolf pelt at the inn; tonight required anonymity, not distinction.
*Four assassins dressed as merchants,* Zhung thought with cold awareness. *Walking into our target's home with murder in our hearts and lies on our papers. The final gambit. Success or death. No middle ground.*
They reached the main gate where two guards stood in formal Lu family uniform—ceremonial armor polished to mirror brightness, swords at their hips, expressions professionally neutral as they processed the steady stream of arriving guests.
"Invitation, please," the guard on the left said with practiced courtesy, extending his hand.
Bai produced the forged document without hesitation, his movements smooth and unhurried, the confidence of someone who had every right to be here and expected no resistance.
The guard unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the elegant calligraphy, noting the seal pressed into red wax at the bottom—the symbol of the Li family, the emblem of the Thousand River Merchants Association, perfectly replicated by Li Huang's expensive forger.
"Representatives of the Thousand River Merchants Association," the guard read aloud, his tone carrying no suspicion, just acknowledgment. "Master Bai and associates. You're listed on the guest registry. Welcome to the Lu manor."
He handed back the invitation with a slight bow—not deep enough to suggest subservience, but respectful of the powerful organization they supposedly represented.
The gates swung open, and they passed through into the grounds.
*That easily,* Zhung noted. *Two weeks of preparation and scouting, all leading to this moment of simple deception. A forged paper with the right seal, the right language, the right appearance of legitimacy. And suddenly we're inside, surrounded by our enemies, walking freely toward our target.*
*This is why Li Huang succeeds. This is why he remains in power. He understands that perception is reality, that confidence sells lies better than elaborate planning, that sometimes the boldest approach is the safest because no one expects enemies to walk through the front door.*
The grounds were magnificent in the lantern light. The gardens they'd observed from outside for two weeks were even more impressive from within—carefully manicured paths winding between ornamental trees and flower beds, stone sculptures placed at strategic intervals, a small pond with decorative bridges reflecting moonlight and lanterns in its still surface. Servants moved with efficient grace, carrying trays of food and drink, ensuring guests wanted for nothing.
The manor itself loomed ahead—three stories of stone and wood construction, every window glowing with warm light, the curved roofing decorated with carved designs that spoke of generations of accumulated wealth. The main entrance was wide and welcoming, guests streaming through in groups of two or three or four, already engaged in animated conversation.
They joined the flow, four more faces in a crowd of dozens, unremarkable and unmemorable despite the death they carried.
Inside, the manor exceeded even Zhung's careful observations from outside. The entry hall was spacious and grand, with polished wooden floors that reflected lantern light like dark water. The walls were decorated with landscape paintings—genuine art, not cheap reproductions—and expensive calligraphy scrolls bearing wisdom from ancient philosophers. A massive staircase curved upward to the second floor, its banister carved from single pieces of rare hardwood.
To the left, large doors stood open to what was clearly the main banquet hall—a vast room that could easily accommodate a hundred guests. Tables laden with food lined the walls—roasted meats and fresh fish, exotic fruits and delicate pastries, dishes from a dozen different regional cuisines arranged with artistic precision. Servants circulated with trays of wine and tea, offering refreshment to anyone who desired it. Musicians played from a raised platform in one corner, their melodies providing elegant background to the conversations happening throughout the room.
And everywhere, guests mingled—merchants and officials, minor nobility and successful traders, all dressed in their finest clothing, all engaged in the complex social dance of networking and alliance-building that defined gatherings like this.
*At least eighty people already present,* Zhung counted with systematic efficiency. *Probably more in other rooms. Plus servants—another twenty or thirty at minimum. And guards—I can see six in this room alone, positioned at strategic points, trying to be unobtrusive but maintaining constant vigilance.*
*Wei Shao's work. Professional security disguised as hospitality. The guards aren't wearing armor or displaying weapons prominently, but they're present and ready. Any threat would face immediate response.*
*Good thing we're not planning a threat. Just a quiet death that looks natural.*
The driver caught Bai's eye and made a subtle gesture—two fingers tapped against his chest, then pointed toward the entrance. The signal was clear: moving to position, securing the escape route as planned.
He separated from their group smoothly, appearing to be simply wandering toward the entrance, perhaps to get fresh air or scout for someone he was supposed to meet. Within moments, he'd vanished into the crowd, just another masked guest moving through the celebration.
*One down,* Zhung noted. *Driver positioned at the exit. Ready to ensure we can leave quickly when the assassination is complete. When Lu Shin collapses and confusion erupts, we'll need those critical first minutes to escape before anyone realizes what actually happened.*
Hu immediately shifted into his assigned role, his expression brightening with exaggerated enthusiasm as he spotted a group of merchants near one of the food tables.
"Gentlemen!" he called out with boisterous friendliness, approaching them with wine cup already in hand despite having just entered. "What a magnificent celebration! Lu Shin certainly knows how to host an event worthy of his success!"
The merchants turned, initially wary of this enthusiastic stranger, but Hu's infectious grin and obvious appreciation for the festivities quickly disarmed them. Within moments, he was engaged in animated conversation, laughing too loudly, gesturing too broadly, drawing attention in a way that was entertaining rather than threatening.
*Distraction established,* Zhung observed. *Hu playing the harmless drunk perfectly. Guards will note his presence, classify him as a minor nuisance at worst, and focus their attention elsewhere. And if something goes wrong during the assassination, if we need chaos to cover our escape, Hu can create a spectacular scene that will draw every eye in the room.*
That left just Bai and Zhung standing together near the entrance to the banquet hall, two representatives of the Thousand River Merchants Association observing the celebration with professional interest.
Bai's golden eyes swept the room with predatory focus, and Zhung followed his gaze to locate their target.
Lu Shin stood near the center of the hall, surrounded by a small group of admirers and business associates. He was younger than Zhung had expected based on written descriptions—twenty-two years old, as Bai had said, but appearing even younger in person. His face was smooth and unmarked by hardship, his features handsome in a refined way that suggested noble bloodline. His robes were deep blue silk embroidered with silver and gold thread in patterns that represented prosperity and wisdom. His hair was styled in the traditional manner of young scholars, and his movements carried the unconscious grace of someone who'd never known poverty or desperation.
*Target identified,* Zhung catalogued with cold precision. *Lu Shin. Twenty-two years old. Business prodigy. Surrounded by five people currently—three men, two women, all well-dressed, all engaged in conversation that appears pleasant and professional. No obvious guards within immediate reach, but I can see two positioned within ten feet, close enough to respond to any threat in seconds.*
*This is the man we came to kill. This is the genius whose only crime was being too successful, too threatening to established power. In another hour, he'll be dead, and his family will mourn, and his business empire will collapse or be absorbed by Li Huang.*
*And the world will continue turning, indifferent to individual tragedy.*
"I'll approach him," Bai said quietly, his voice barely audible beneath the music and conversation. "Engage him in conversation, establish rapport, get close enough to use the technique. You maintain position here unless something goes wrong."
Zhung nodded once, acknowledging the plan.
Bai moved forward with smooth confidence, navigating through the crowd with the practiced ease of someone comfortable in social settings. He paused occasionally to accept wine from passing servants, to nod politely at other guests, to maintain the appearance of a merchant representative enjoying the celebration while conducting informal business networking.
Gradually, deliberately, he made his way toward Lu Shin's position.
Zhung watched from his position near the entrance, his dark eyes tracking Bai's progress while simultaneously monitoring everything else—guard positions, escape routes, potential complications, the location of Hu still entertaining his group of merchants with increasingly outrageous stories.
Bai reached the edge of Lu Shin's group and paused, waiting for an appropriate moment to insert himself into the conversation. Social assassination required patience and timing, just like physical assassination.
A minute passed. Then two.
Then one of Lu Shin's current companions excused himself, creating an opening, and Bai stepped smoothly into the gap.
"Viscount Lu," Bai said with a respectful bow, his tone carrying exactly the right mixture of deference and confidence. "I apologize for the interruption, but I couldn't let this evening pass without expressing my admiration for your recent business achievements. The entire merchant community is watching your success with great interest."
Lu Shin turned to face this new speaker, his expression pleasant and welcoming—the practiced smile of someone accustomed to receiving compliments and managing social situations.
"You're too kind," Lu Shin replied with genuine warmth. "Though I don't believe we've been introduced?"
"Master Bai, representing the Thousand River Merchants Association," Bai said smoothly, producing his forged invitation as casual proof of identity. "My associates and I are conducting business in the region, and when we heard about your celebration, we couldn't resist attending. Your reputation precedes you, Viscount Lu."
Lu Shin's smile widened fractionally—pleased by the recognition, enjoying the flattery even as his sharp mind probably analyzed what the Thousand River Merchants Association's presence at his banquet might signify.
"The Association honors me with their attendance," Lu Shin said diplomatically. "Please, enjoy the celebration. If there are business matters to discuss, perhaps we can arrange a more formal meeting in the coming days?"
*Well played,* Zhung noted from his distant observation point. *Lu Shin maintains social grace while deflecting potential business discussion to more appropriate settings. He's not just a genius at commerce—he understands social dynamics and political maneuvering. That's rare in someone so young.*
*No wonder Li Huang sees him as a threat.*
But before Bai could respond, one of Lu Shin's guards—a large man with scarred hands and the bearing of a veteran warrior—stepped forward with professional courtesy but unmistakable authority.
"Excuse me, Master Bai," the guard said, his tone polite but firm. "I'll need to verify your credentials before you continue speaking with Viscount Lu. Standard security protocol for tonight's event. I'm sure you understand."
*Wei Shao's training,* Zhung realized. *The head of security doesn't take chances. Anyone approaching Lu Shin directly gets vetted, even at a social gathering. Even someone with apparently legitimate invitations.*
*This could complicate everything. If they check Bai's story too thoroughly, if they send someone to verify with Li Huang, if they delay long enough that the opportunity passes...*
But Bai handled it with impressive calm, producing not just his invitation but additional documents from inside his robe—letters of credit bearing the Thousand River Merchants Association seal, business contracts with Li Huang's signature (forged, but perfect forgeries), even a personal token that Li Huang apparently provided for exactly this kind of situation.
The guard examined everything with methodical thoroughness, his experienced eyes looking for any inconsistency or irregularity. Minutes passed in tense silence while Bai maintained his pleasant expression and Lu Shin watched with patient curiosity.
Finally, the guard nodded and returned the documents.
"Everything appears in order. My apologies for the interruption, Master Bai. Please, continue your conversation with Viscount Lu."
He stepped back to his position, still watchful but no longer blocking access.
*Crisis averted,* Zhung observed. *Li Huang's preparation was thorough. The forged documents pass even careful inspection. We remain uncompromised.*
*For now.*
Bai resumed his conversation with Lu Shin, the two of them discussing business trends and market conditions with the easy rapport of professionals who understood the same complex systems. Lu Shin was clearly enjoying the exchange—Bai was educated enough to keep pace with his observations, insightful enough to offer genuine perspective rather than mere flattery.
They talked about trade routes and supply chains, about emerging markets and declining commodities, about the delicate balance between expansion and overextension that defined successful commerce.
And gradually, naturally, without appearing to force anything, Bai moved closer—from five feet away to four, from four to three, closing the distance in increments small enough to avoid notice.
*Positioning for the technique,* Zhung understood. *Bai needs to be within arm's reach to use his Will-based assassination method. Close enough that the compressed air he generates can reach Lu Shin's heart with sufficient force to stop it instantly.*
*He's doing it perfectly. Patient. Natural. Nothing to alert guards or raise suspicion.*
Zhung's eyes shifted, scanning the room once more, and something caught his attention.
The drinks.
Servants were circulating with trays of wine and tea, offering refreshment to guests throughout the banquet hall. Standard hospitality, nothing unusual about it.
Except...
Zhung's enhanced senses—sharpened by body tempering and cultivation training—detected something subtle in the wine's aroma. Something that didn't quite belong. Not poison, exactly, but some kind of additive. Medicinal herbs, perhaps, or a mild sedative designed to make guests more relaxed and convivial.
*Interesting,* he noted. *Lu Shin or his staff are subtly drugging the wine. Nothing dangerous—probably just something to enhance the party atmosphere, reduce inhibitions slightly, make business rivals more friendly and open to future cooperation.*
*Clever. Unethical, but clever. And completely irrelevant to our mission.*
His attention returned to Bai and Lu Shin, still engaged in conversation, now standing close enough that Bai could have reached out and touched the younger man's shoulder without fully extending his arm.
*Position achieved. Any moment now, Bai will make his move.*
But Zhung felt something else—an instinctive awareness developed through violence and survival, a sense that something was about to shift.
He glanced toward Hu, still entertaining his group of merchants near the food tables, his performance as the jovial drunk apparently convincing enough that several guards had positioned themselves nearby—not threatening, just ready to escort him out if his behavior became too disruptive.
*Distraction ready. Guards focused on Hu rather than Lu Shin. Perfect timing.*
Then his eyes found the driver, barely visible near the main entrance, positioned exactly where he needed to be to secure their escape route. The masked figure stood with deliberate casualness, appearing to simply observe the celebration while actually monitoring the guards stationed at the exit and preparing to clear their path when the moment came.
*Escape route secured. Everything in position.*
*We're ready.*
Zhung's gaze returned to Bai and Lu Shin one final time—
And realized Bai was looking directly at him, those golden eyes carrying a question: *Where are you going?*
Because Zhung had begun moving, his body drifting away from his assigned position near the entrance, sliding through the crowd with the same unremarkable presence he'd cultivated for weeks.
*Something's wrong,* Zhung's instincts whispered. *Something about this situation doesn't feel right. The timing, the positioning, the way those guards near Lu Shin are standing—too alert, too focused, as if they're expecting something.*
*Wei Shao is good at his job. Paranoid. Thorough. What if he anticipated assassination attempts? What if he prepared contingencies we didn't account for?*
*What if Bai's technique fails or is interrupted at the critical moment?*
Zhung continued moving, not away from the action but repositioning himself, circling around through the crowd until he stood to Bai's left side rather than behind him—a different angle, a different perspective, a position that would allow him to act if the primary plan collapsed.
*Backup,* he reminded himself. *That's my role. Not to interfere with Bai's approach, but to be ready when everything goes wrong. Because in work like this, something always goes wrong.*
The music continued playing. The guests continued conversing. The celebration proceeded with comfortable normalcy while death prepared its final approach.
Lu Shin raised his hand suddenly, calling for attention, and the musicians gradually lowered their volume as the young viscount prepared to address his assembled guests.
"Friends! Honored guests!" Lu Shin's voice carried clearly across the banquet hall, trained projection reaching every corner despite the vast space. "Thank you all for joining me tonight to celebrate what I hope marks the beginning of a prosperous new era for our region!"
Applause erupted—polite but genuine, the sound of people who respected Lu Shin's achievements even if they competed with his business interests.
Lu Shin smiled warmly, basking in the approval, and continued speaking about recent successes and future plans, about cooperation and mutual benefit, about building something greater than any individual merchant could achieve alone.
*He's good,* Zhung acknowledged despite himself. *Charismatic. Visionary. The kind of leader people follow not out of fear but genuine inspiration.*
*And in approximately three minutes, he'll be dead.*
Bai had positioned himself perfectly during Lu Shin's attention shift toward addressing the crowd. Now he stood barely two feet away from the young viscount, close enough to reach out and touch him, close enough that his Will-based technique would strike with perfect precision.
His right hand moved subtly, fingers forming a specific gesture—three fingers extended, two curled, thumb pressed against his palm. The hand sign for his assassination technique, hidden partially by his body position so that casual observers wouldn't notice the deliberate formation.
*He's preparing,* Zhung recognized. *Any second now. As soon as Lu Shin finishes his speech and the applause begins, when everyone's attention is focused forward and noise provides cover—*
*That's when Bai strikes.*
Lu Shin continued his speech, his voice passionate and confident, painting visions of economic prosperity and regional cooperation that had his audience leaning forward with genuine interest.
Zhung shifted position slightly, moving three steps to his left, angling himself so he could see both Bai and Lu Shin clearly, so he could observe the moment of assassination and be ready to act if complications emerged.
His own right hand hung relaxed at his side, but his fingers twitched almost imperceptibly—forming the Stone Bullet hand sign, then relaxing, then forming it again. Muscle memory. Practice. Preparation for violence that might be necessary in the next few seconds.
*Lu Shin is about to die,* Zhung thought with cold certainty. *And everything we've planned for two weeks is about to be tested against reality.*
*Success means we walk out of here unnoticed while Lu Shin's body cools and his family mourns and Li Huang celebrates in secret.*
*Failure means we fight our way through dozens of guards and probably die in this beautiful manor, surrounded by people who had nothing to do with our mission but will kill us anyway because that's what happens to assassins when plans collapse.*
*No middle ground.*
*No mercy for failure.*
Lu Shin's speech was building toward its conclusion, his voice rising with passion as he described his vision for the future—
And Bai's hand tensed, his golden eyes focusing with absolute concentration, his Will beginning to gather and compress, preparing to launch the technique that would stop Lu Shin's heart in seconds—
The young viscount raised both hands high, his final words echoing across the hall:
"To prosperity! To cooperation! To a future we build together!"
Applause erupted like thunder, every guest clapping enthusiastically, the noise providing perfect cover for what was about to happen.
Bai's technique activated—
---
**End of Chapter 24**